


Stars are falling all for us

by orphan_account



Series: So get this... [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Awkward Castiel, Awkward Sexual Situations, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Fall, a hint of pre-established destiel, but they both think it's one-sided so?, handjobs, ridiculous one-shots, slightly narmy language, sorry guys i suck at smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also, I am <i>awkward</i> at smut. I am so sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars are falling all for us

**Author's Note:**

> Not a lot of drama so much as human!Angst. Spoilers through season eight.

Cas is on the side of the road in Bumfuck, Nowhere when Sam and Dean finally find him. Sam is bleeding from the side and his blood sugar is so low that he may pass out at any minute, but Dean figures that their Angel buddy should be able to do something about that. At least, that's what he tells himself, despite the doubt wiggling around in his head that Cas can't help them anymore. He absolutely refuses to believe that he'll fail his baby brother because he ultimately failed his best friend.

 _But Cas hasn't teleported here yet. You must have done something wrong. Again_ , a voice in his head that sounds like his dad tells him. He wants to slam his fists against the steering wheel, but has to maintain his composure. Out of a whole lifetime of failing, the only thing he's managed to do right is pretend that everything's fine. "He's just too weak to join us on his own, that's all," Dean assures Sam, or maybe himself. Sam doesn't appear to be listening much, unfocused eyes facing the ceiling of the car until the moment Dean slams on the breaks and sends Sam flying into the covered airbag section of the dashboard. Dean argues with his seatbelt for a moment before throwing himself, headfirst, out of the car and at a retreating trenchcoat back.

"Cas!" Dean shouts, but the man doesn't turn around. Sam stumbles awkwardly out of his car, still clutching his injured side, chasing their friend on unsteady feet.

"Cas -" Sam croaks, before lapsing into a fit of coughs. And it's those coughs that stop Cas in his tracks. He turns to face Sam, hunched over and breathing heavily, before lifting his eyes up to Dean's. The stricken look on Cas's face brings a horrible thought to the forefront of Dean's mind.

"Jimmy?" Dean asks with caution, because maybe that's who this is now. The Angels have fallen and maybe poor Jimmy Novak has returned, lost and broken and confused as hell. Besides, this man's eyes are red and puffy, checks stained with tears. This couldn't possibly be Castiel, Angel of the Lord, junkless celestial being who wouldn't know emotion or love if it bit him in the ass. But no. Of course it isn't Jimmy. Dean isn't that lucky. Jimmy Novak's head shakes, and Cas's voice just calls Dean's name out softly before looking back down at Sam.

"I can't help. I can't... I can't fly. I can't heal. I can't -" Sam has managed to push himself to his feet and limped to where Castiel is standing. Gingerly, Sam envelopes Castiel in a hug while the shorter man continues to babble into Sam's chest.

* * *

With Sam's help, Dean manages to get their nearly comatose and newly-human friend into the back seat of the car. Cas is still making little gasping noises, like he's trying to breath but doesn't know how. Dean supposes dully that such a situation is actually extremely likely, and he wishes that Anna or even Gabriel was around to explain to them what was happening. But would they even know? Given that, had they been alive, they would have been recently-fallen Angels as well, it didn't seem likely.

Sam's calmed down some and has opted to sit in the back with Cas, although his legs are horribly cramped this way. Sam rubs Cas's back as he continues to choke on air, eyes blinking with more force than necessary. Dean turns in the driver's seat and watches Cas trying to take everything in. It's amazing to watch, and terrifying too.

"How do things always manage to go downhill so damn fast?" Dean asks. Sam shakes his head.

"You got me, man. You got any tissues?" Dean pulls a wad of napkins out of glove box and hands them to Sam. Sam starts to wipe away the tears and grime from Cas's, and Dean notices that for the first time Cas is not only bleeding, but the cuts aren't healing up and the bruises aren't going away. He's seen blood on the human vessel, but normally these sorts of scrapes just close up on Cas. When Cas's nose starts bleeding, Dean holds a napkin to Cas's face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Here, blow," Dean demands. Confused, Cas blows air out of his mouth and Dean has to repress a laugh. "No, no, from your nose. We gotta clean up theis blood, don't want you bleedin' all over the car, or that nice coat of yours." Cas blows properly this time, and starts to cough. Sam slaps his back a few time and starts to work him through breathing exercises. 

"You okay to teach your lamaze class while I drive?" Dean asks. When Sam nods, He leans over to slam the passenger door closed and shuts his own, starting the car and heading in the direction of their odd excuse for a home.

* * *

Dean is resolutely not going to set up a third bed for Cas. Cas, Dean insists, can sleep in his bed. Dean is fine to rough it on the floor or the couch, although truthfully his back is killing him.

It's been a long time since he and Sam have had to hand-clean and fix wounds, but they manage to sew up the cut in Sam's side. Dean isn't going to ask how it got there because it doesn't matter. The sources of their pain are the least of his worries right now. He orders Sam to get a hot shower and some food, before turning to Cas's wounds.

His right cheek is bruised and there's a thin, but long cut under his chin, right above his neck. Cas has at least one cracked rib that Dean imagines is from the impact of hitting the ground. Other than that, Cas seems relatively unharmed, so Dean just cleans the wounds, tapes up around the rib, and orders Cas to lie low for a little while. Dean heads over to his dresser in the corner of the room, searching through the bottom drawer for night clothes he think will fit Cas. Cas stands awkwardly in the doorway, watching him with a tilted head.

"Alright," Dean says, tossing the clothes at Cas's head. Cas completely misses, of course, but Dean doesn't mind helping him pick them up. "Let's get you dressed and into bed."

Cas tries to turn around to get out of his street clothes and into the spare Pink Floyd shirt and plain boxers, but winces with even the smallest movements. Dean sighs in agitation. Helping a fully grown man get dressed for bed is not where he should be at this point in time in his life. He grabs Cas by the shoulders and turns him around. Cas is already bare-chested, so Dean reached for Cas's belt.

"Dean, no," Cas begs, and Dean looks up with frustration and concern. 

"Look, Cas, I know it's gonna require a bit of bending and it'll hurt a bit, but I gotta get these pants off of you. You can't just wear 'em forever," Dean says as Cas studiously avoids his eyes. So while Cas is keeping himself preoccupied, Dean takes the plunge and pulls Cas's pants and underwear down in one go.

Now, it's not as though Dean spends a good chunk of time staring at other guys' junk, but he's not exactly squeamish either. The kind of life they lead doesn't leave room for prudishness. That being said, it's difficult for him not to notice, when his body follows his friend's dark pants to help said friend step out of said pants, that said friend is a) now stark naked and b) fully erect. 

Dean pauses, trying to asses how to address this situation. He's had men hit on him before and he's been known to flirt back. He's quite comfortable being bi, although he tends to lean more toward women. If the person standing before him was anybody other than Cas - who has once again been reduced to his panic attack sobs - Dean would probably just go for it. But Cas wasn't like other people. Dean wasn't entirely certain how often Cas became aroused in either human or Angel form, and his current status might not be due to sexual attraction at all. Dean knew that genitalia acted in strange ways when the person to whom the member belonged was under stress. So maybe that was it.

"I'm s- I'm so sorry," Cas manages to get out, and Dean lets his eyes close. Maybe stress isn't the reason after all.

Cas, as Dean knew him, wasn't the type of person who was into one-night stands (unless the future Zacariah showed him was the truth, but the thought made Dean burn with rage because Cas was _his_ Angel as much as the Impala was _his_ car, and nobody was going to take it or Cas away from him). Dean always thought that if he wanted to start something with Cas (which in itself was a laughable thought - life was never that good to him), he'd have to spend a lot of time wooing Cas. It wasn't that Dean couldn't be bothered with the effort; it was that there never seemed to be a right time for these sorts of things. And besides, Cas had Meg in the event that he ever needed or wanted someone. Dean had always considered Castiel a lost cause - a nice ideal, but an unattainable goal.

"Things would be better for everyone if I had just died instead," Castiel whispers, breaking Dean from his thoughts.

"No," Dean asserts, making a final decision. He stands to his full height, trying to look Cas in the eyes. "Cas," Dean calls softly. "Look at me." Cas shakes his head. So Dean holds Cas's head in both of his hands, drawing Cas's head forward to meet Dean's eyes. Cas's hands fly up to Dean's wrists, ready to pull them back, but their movement stops when he feels Dean's thumbs caressing his cheek bones. "Castiel, look at me."

Castiel opened his eyes, dark blue and frightened, and started to open his mouth. But Dean broke in. "Don't you ever say that again, okay?" Cas licks his lips in uncontrolled need, and then bites his lower lip to keep it from happening again. Dean can feel the beating of Cas's pulse from where his hands hold Cas's head, and watches as Cas's pupils dilate. "Things would not be better if you'd died. What, you think Moose and I would get very far without you?" Dean smirks, but Cas's posturing remains serious. Dean sighs again, letting his arms slide around Cas's shoulders into a hug that should feel awkward, as one of them is fully dressed while the other very naked. "I've already lost everything else. I'm just barely hanging onto Sam. I don't -" Dean took a deep breath. "I couldn't stand to lose you, too." Dean rests his cheek against Cas's until he feel the other man return the hug, arms encasing Dean's waist. Dean lifts his head to kiss Cas's temple softly, and feels the thudding of Cas's heart speed up.

"Dean," Cas whispers. Dean shivers as the air exhaled in his name tickles his collarbone, Cas's nose buried in his neck.

Dean pulls back farther to kiss Cas's forehead, and then back again to kiss his lips softly. "Dean -" Cas tries to say, but Dean shushes him and kisses him again, very lightly. 

Cas's lips are chapped and he's trying desperately to wet them. Dean waits until Cas pushes the soft pink muscle out of his mouth again before caressing Cas's tonuge with his own. Cas moans at the touch, squirming slightly away although Dean is holding him close. Dean threads the fingers of his left hand through Cas's hair, his right hand still resting on Cas's shoulder. Cas sighs and lets his mouth fall open. Dean thrusts his tongue through slighty, using his mouth as a distraction from what his hand is doing.

His right hand crawls from Cas's shoulder to his hip, rubbing the bone there encouragingly before taking Cas's engorged cock in hand.

Cas gasps from the contact, hands leaving Dean's hips to clasp at his shoulders, his lips planted firmly on Dean's.

Dean lets his left hand fall slowly from Cas's hair as he pulls up on Cas's cock, rubbing the slit in a slow circle before thrusting his hand down again. Cas's hands slip to Dean's back, digging in as his hips cant forward into Dean's hand. Dean breaks their kiss for a moment, eyes still locked on Cas as he licks first the palm of his right hand, then the fingers of his left. Cas stares back, still determined not to look away or, despite his recent human status, to blink. He loses all composure as Dean's left pointer finger caresses the dividing line between Cas's cheeks. Cas bites down, hard, on Dean's neck and Dean hisses " _fuck_ " in response, rubbing his clothed dick quickly on Cas's bare hip. He'll deal with himself later. Cas's arms have gone the other way now, reaching up to Dean's shoulders from the back, nails still digging in. Dean grabs hold of Cas's cock again and starts to pump slowly, as he circles Cas's hole, teasing it as he does the slit of Cas's dick, and begins to thrust one finger in and out as Cas's hips start to follow Dean's fist. Cas is blowing puffs of air onto Dean's neck and is a complete, wimpering wreck as he comes between them, crying Dean's name, hips still moving through his orgasm. Cas sighs into Dean's neck, and Dean smiles to himself, wiping Cas's cum off on his shirt.

Dean sits Cas down on the bed so he can take the man's shoes off. Cas seems to be regarding him with an intense curiosity, as though Dean has just performed some sort of circius trick instead of just helping him masturbate. Dean helps Cas step into the clean boxers and pulls the Pink Floyd shirt over Cas's head. Cas looks properly tired now, and Dean feels _pleased_ with himself when he pecks Cas on the lips and tells him, "I'll be out in the kitchen if you need anything." He doesn't expect so, but it's well after midnight and any talks about their relationship that Cas wants to have can and should happen when everyone (well, at least Cas and Dean) are well rested and fully awake. 

* * *

Dean should probably feel guilty for what he just did, so he chalks the warm affection in his chest up to the fact that Cas is no longer an Angel, so what he's done isn't really all that blasphemous. Because Cas is his friend, however, he does feel guilty about locking himself in the bathroom and pulling himself off to images of Cas on all fours, whimpering and gasping as Dean drives into him, hard. He comes harder than he has in a long time when Cas's voice echoes his name in his head. He insists to himself that there won't be a repeat of tonight, because Cas is a virgin in many senses of the word. They wil have to go slowly, because that's the good and proper thing to do, and Cas is worth it.

So Dean putters around the kitchen a bit, making lists of things he and Sam will have to teach Cas, lists of people they will have to catch, and even a grocery list. Despite his wank, Dean doesn't feel tired at all, so Dean cracks open a bottle of beer and tries not to think about holding Cas, kissing Cas, caressing Cas, fucking Cas, getting fucked _by_ Cas...

Eventually, Dean falls asleep on the couch, half-drunk bottle of beer sitting on the coffee table. He's only barely awake when Cas settles next to him on the couch, so he doesn't think twice about putting an arm around Cas's waist. Cas cuddles close to him, resting a hand tentatively on Dean's bicep. "You need somethin'?" Dean asks. There's a slight pause before Cas responds.

"Yeah," he says softly. "You."


End file.
